Those forgotten
by komodo-Dags
Summary: There was a lot of robots built that were best left forgotten. There was no real reason to remember them. After all, everything Robotnik built was made of metal; there was nothing in them that could ever express true feeling. /Please R&R!/
1. The Discovery

"…and then you beat him, didn't you, boss?"

Dr. Eggman sighed deeply before turning in his chair to shroud a dirty look on his small assistant, Orbot. The robot barely seemed to notice this and stared intently at his master, hands clasped together in anticipation of the next part of the exciting tale his master had just been telling him.

"What do you think?!" The Doctor snapped, a little louder than was intended, making Orbot shrink back a little, "I lost. Again. Just like I always do…" He brought his fist up to his face and clenched it, "But I was so close…"

Another Robot, similar to Orbot in stature but with a cubed head, wandered past the doorway and threw his heavily accented two-sense in, "If'n I may say, ya'll always get close." 

"Rrrggg…SCRAM!" The man pulled himself out of his chair with amazing speed for his weight and waved his hand in the direction of the bot, which vanished immediately in a cloud of dust. Eggman grumbled and landed back in his chair, "No respect anymore…" He growled between gritted teeth.

"That's not true; I respect you!" Orbot hopped up on the control panel to be beside his creator, "Cubot is having malfunctions…that voice chip of hi-"

"No. stop right there." The human waved a finger at the robot, "That is the last time you use that as an excuse for him! He is in perfect functioning order and you know it. That voice chip of his is the only malfunction he has and it's hardly an excuse for his behavior." He reached to rub his chin thoughtfully, "Perhaps a new servitude chip is in order…"

Orbot seemed horrified, "I don't believe that that would be necessary! I'll…I'll go talk to him!" He hopped onto the floor and made his way quickly across the room, not bothering to listen to his boss' muttered retort.

If Cubot had a new servitude chip implanted in him, it meant no Cubot. It meant a droning, monotone robot mindlessly wandering the corridors of the Doctor's base, doing exactly as his master wished. There would be no hesitation if his orders were 'Through yourself off a cliff!' Nothing like that. Orbot shuddered at the thought. Of course, there had been a time when they both were exactly that, but over time and experience the bots had manage to gain a personality, something they learned was not uncommon among Eggman's machines.

Some just never got the chance, or were never re-built after destruction. An example was the egg-pawns constantly being sent after Sonic the Hedgehog. The experience they gained was so minimal that only a few out of hundreds created at a time would flee the battle line when seeing his brothers falling like flies around him.

He silently thanked a supreme being that he had been created an assistant; capable of gaining the time needed to discover that there was more to life than throwing his entire being into the pool that was the master's plans and dreams.

As he turned one of the corners, he found himself face-to-face with his yellow 'brother', who swayed back for a second, "What'n 'tarnations are ya doin' 'round these parts?!" He hollered, voice echoing off the bare walls.

"Shhh!" Orbot drew a finger up to where his mouth would be, "Be quiet, I have to talk to you."

"Oh." He drew himself up and leaned against the wall, "Be make'n it quick, I gotta appointment with destiny."

"You do not!" Orbot corrected stoutly, "Now you listen to me; the boss is this close to tossing you into the trash due to your terrible behavior! You have to stop before you give him a migraine; he hates those and it will only make your situation worse! Now stop this instant." He ended his speech with folded arms.

Cubot tilted his head, eyes narrowed, "Come with me!" He announced suddenly before turning and moving down the hall quickly.

"Wha-? Cubot, were you even listening to me?" He followed his friend, irritated, "This is what the boss is talking about!"

The yellow robot remained oblivious to the other as he moved at a fair speed, only waving behind his back once in a while to encourage Orbot to keep up. Further and further they went from Eggman's room, the lights became dimmer and dimmer until there were none at all, making the more responsible of the two nervous.

"We should really be heading back. Master will probably not harm you if you beg…." It was more or less an offer from one safe robot to a doomed one.

"Now ya jus' mosey on in here." Cubot seemed to be in a world of his own and grabbed his partners arm, pulling him into a room as black as a starless sky. Orbot, racked with nerves, switched on his night vision the second they entered and peered around, by now a little curious as to what was causing so much fuss on the other's end.

He gasped and stuttered incredulously, "Why…there's only JUNK in here!" He spat, turning his lit eyes unhappily to Cubot, "Care to explain?"

Only a scoff, "Junk? I reckon you meant 'treasure'! Just take a gander at all this STUFF!"

A pause before a smack was heard. Orbot slammed his 'palm' into his forehead, deciding that he really should have seen this coming. Who liked-no-_loved_ stuff more than Cubot? "Really?" He sighed.

"Yup, and it's ours for the takin'!"He threw himself onto a pile of scrap metal, waving his arms into the rusted pieces like he was swimming, "We could spend all day here!"

Wait a minute…he began to notice strange things about this room. This wasn't just garbage. It didn't LOOK like it. No, these were parts. His head jerked a bit when realization hit, "Cubot…do you even know what all this IS?!" He spat, backing up a fraction.

"Huh?" Was the response.

"These are the remains of robots just like us." He sighed sadly, "I believe that this is where the master stores everything he doesn't need any more…quite tragic, really." He decided to make this into a lesson while the moment was there, "If you're not careful, this very well could be your resting place, too."

"Cool!"

Orbot was taken back, "_Cool?_ What is wrong with you?!" After a second of thought process, he was relieved to see that the other was not malfunctioning; rather, he had been exploring and had apparently discovered something that interested him.

"There's a couple'a 'bots here, completely intact! Can we keep 'em, huh?"

The spherical bot hardly expected them to be 'intact' when they had been discovered in such a heap of trash and debris. To keep this as short as possible, however, he took a peek at what his companion was going on about.

He couldn't say that he wasn't surprised when he spotted the two slightly rusted figures, propped crudely amongst the debris around them. The shorter robot, looking more like a green blob on treads, sat straight and as tall as his form would allow him, eyes open wide, but glassy. Staring at something that had long since come and gone.

Then, long neck drooping over the other's head was what could only be described as a humanoid rooster. His eyes, unlike the others, were determined and fierce. His beaked mouth was a crack open, revealing grit teeth; together an expression that didn't seem to fit the rest of his form. The plume set atop the spherical head was drooped to a side, looking to be rusted into place and the felt around his neck which was only just visible looked ratty and torn.

Orbot allowed a soundtrack of a hard swallow to play to express his feelings over the discovery.

Cubot, however, was thrilled. He jumped right up to them and began to clear the debris off of their bodies, "Can we keep 'em?" He asked excitedly over his shoulder.

"Cubot! Let them rust in peace, please!" He begged, "You have to understand, this…this is what happens when the master _doesn't want his bots anymore._"

For once in the day, the words seemed to actually reach the square-headed bot, who hesitantly stopped his clutter spreading to squint with a mixture of confusion and sadness at the discarded use-to-be's.

He turned to his buddy, "Ya mean…?"

"Yes…these two were most likely thrown here over ten years ago. Probably after some failure. It's sad, but…well, we can't do anything for them. They're done, and the master has no more use for them. Activating them would probably only result in an immediate re-deactivation." He sighed, reaching out an encouraging hand to his partner, "Come on; let's go."

"But…whatta 'bout us?" His head was moving back and forth, from his new discoveries to Orbot.

His hand drooped a little in frustration, "What about us, Cubot?"

"Well, what if the boss man puts us 'down the river' someday? He wouldn't do that, right?"

The pitiful look on the bot's face made it easy enough for Orbot to finally say, "No…he'd never do that to us. We're his favorite."

This seemed to satisfy Cubot and he hopped past him to leave the room. As he clattered down the hallway, Orbot couldn't help but pause a moment to pay some respects to those who had served his master before him.

He supposed that they all had one thing in common. Sure, helping the Doctor was one thing that they always would have, but that was only a directive; completely un-ignorable. No, there was something else.

He found that he couldn't exactly put his finger on it. His thought processor was jammed with new views.

Orbot slowly followed the other, only glancing back one last time to stare into the oddly chilling faces of those long past. It reminded him that no matter what he told himself, or any other of his companions, that he knew what would eventually become of himself and Cubot.

They would be scrapped. Shut down and thrown away by their own creator, who, no matter what, they were programmed to trust with a compelling fierceness that was guaranteed to be betrayed one day.

And maybe, just maybe, they would be tossed beside these two and share this room together for as long as their parts held and their memory was alive. Slowly, an army of deactivated robots would build here.

But, despite the way Robotnik had abused, scorned, humiliated, and taken advantage of all of them, they would always be just as loyal to him the day they were first activated to right now; in the most shapeless, hopeless, and rust laden forms.

That was the something that they would all always have in common.


	2. Then and Now

"_B-b-but SIR! We did everything RIGHT!"_

_Scratch, a humanoid rooster, stumbled as his creator Dr. Robotnik held him firmly by the shoulder and yanked him along down an endless corridor of identical lights and doors, "Indeed you did, Scratch." Robotnik growled, "A feat I thought impossible, but, you see…"_

_The man stopped just outside one of the closed entries and eyes the terrified chicken up and down, "It's taken me years to realize that your uselessness outweighs your usefulness by far. You and Grounder have served your purpose; I need new robots that can handle more. More complex machinery; you get the point."_

_Scratch shook his head, pulling one of his arms up to rub at his head, "I…I don't understand! Wh-where's Grounder, anyway?"_

"_Oh, him?" The Doctor let go of the other and carelessly flung the door open._

_A muffled cry of distress rose from the badnik when he spotted what had become of his dear brother. There, among the trash like a piece of garbage, was Grounder; the frightened but frozen look on the stout machine's face told the whole story._

"_You…y-you…!" Scratch dashed into the room and stared in wild disbelief, the miserable noises scratching out of his throat in blips made it hard to tell whether he was stuttering or crying as he fawned worriedly over his brother and life-long companion._

_Either way, Robotnik really couldn't care less. He strutted in behind him, "Do you understand now, or have you taken on a new level of idiocy?"  
_

_Scratch did understand, and it hurt a fair bit, too. The same man who had put him into the world was going to just as quickly take him out; Grounder had already been a victim._

_He stepped forward before gently resting beside Grounder, placing his long neck over the other's head and staring protectively at his master. He felt riled up, mad, and generally betrayed. No matter how much time had passed and how many failures they had angered the Doctor with, there had always been a part of him that believed that he actually…liked them. That they were really his favorite. That the way they had persisted and worked so hard to do as he asked of them may have actually gained them some respect._

_But none of that had obviously happened. Here he was, waiting to be permanently shut down as a result of actually succeeding for once. What was the difference between succeeding and failing if you were punished both ways? Had there ever really been a point to his and Grounder's groveling and compliments they had showered on this man in hopes of recognition? Apparently not._

_Without another word, Robotnik came forward and flipped open a cap on the robot's head, revealing his inner workings and the 'ON' and 'OFF' switch. The cold look on Scratch's face didn't waver for a second as the switch was pulled and his mechanics came to a halt; pulling the only life he had away._

_The Doctor then stood, walked to the doorway, and took only a brief look back, before leaving. He slammed the door behind himself; purging the last light from the room as his footsteps echoed softly into the distance._

Dr. Eggman spun in his chair to face the two bots as they both returned, "Took you long enough!" He remarked suspiciously.

"Well, you see, boss…I had some trouble finding Cubot. You know the way he likes to get lost." Orbot glanced over encouragingly to his companion, who hopped into the room.

"Ya'll want some coffee? I got the strangest hankerin' for some coffee!" He exclaimed, looking up at the Doctor.

Only a huff from the boss, "Coffee would be nice, Cubot. But make it quick; I'm brainstorming and want some peace!"

"Right away, sir!" Cubot began preparing the drink while Orbot found his power and station and began re-charging.

"Where did you find him?" Eggman's voice was distant, not very interested but making small talk, as he continued to carefully sketch out the new blue-prints laid in front of him.

Orbot shivered a little, "I found him in the scrap room, sir." As much as he wanted to, he couldn't lie. It just wasn't in his programming.

"Oh…?" He didn't seem to have barely heard.

Cubot suddenly sprang onto the desk, splashing some of the coffee onto the blue prints before presenting it to his boss, "Here ya go, sir!"

"Rrrrgh…" The Doctor was not known for keeping his anger inside, "YOU BLASTED BOT! THESE WERE MY NEWEST PLANS, AND YOU JUST RUINED THEM!" He ended his sentence by delivering a sharp smack to the robot's head.

"Arrr, I be apologizing!" Cubot yelled back, matching the other's volume with his new-found pirate accent, "You were jus' gettin' in the way!"

Orbot feared for his friend's life a moment as the boss' face turned bright red for a second, but then, to his surprise, Eggman sat back heavily in his chair and sighed deeply, "Where did I go wrong?" the man moaned to himself.

"That be a tougher one to figure than a scrape of dried jerky…" Cubot mused, setting a finger on his non-existent chin.


	3. Back in Action

"Hellooooo?"

A certain cube-headed robot had returned to the scrap room, unbeknownst to his boss or buddy.

After opening the door with much difficulty (All of the doors had been made to fit Dr. Eggman's size, a man that was about 9 ft. tall.) He peeked in to find the same scene as earlier. It had been a few hours since the last time he'd been here, but he just couldn't push the persistent curiosity that constantly lingered in his mind away. He wanted to know more.

How he thought going back to a room full of dead robots was going to help; only he knew.

One reason that was obvious was that the boss was more than ticked with the poor robot and had once again smacked him up-side the head, resulting in yet another voice swap. It was now annoyingly high-pitched, and never failing to ramble about every one of his thoughts that popped into his scattered brain.

Cubot approached the two robots from earlier, clicking his fingers together, "You know, you guys gotta brighten up! It's WAY too quiet and sad in here! What's with the long faces? I'll cheer you up, promise!"

Crawling up the pile of scrap parts beside them, he was eventually perched right over their heads. He felt great! He felt superior! ...He felt like he had to focus. Dropping the wildly wonderful thought of being the tallest machine in the world (The King of Stuff), he began to prod and poke at the two below him.

"I know what my buddy, Orbot said about activating you two, but I just can't help it! You guys've been off way too long. I need a few more friends who can help me collect my stuff! Did I tell you about my stuff? I got all kinds of it! Fat stuff, short stuff, long stuff, curly stuff…"

And thus chattering about things that the deactivated badniks could care less about, nonetheless hear, Cubot continued with his search for their activation system. He himself was built with a small flap on the back of his head that had a few wires and a button; press the button and he was off. Press it again and he was on. It was very simple, just like his personality.

Eventually prying open the top of the humanoid chicken's head, he noticed the switch, which he wasn't very familiar with. Still, his curiosity got the best of him and he yanked it towards himself eagerly, and then turned to the fat green robot when he heard the old mechanics slowly starting up. Squeaking and grinding filled the room (over the sound of Cubot's rambling) as gears broke free from the rust that had been holding them for so many years and began to turn on their own.

"Aeeergh…" The chicken pulled a stiff arm up to his head to rub at it dizzily, "Wh…where am I…?"

Cubot took a moment to do the same to the other badnik before jumping down in front of them; arms spread wide, "You're in Robotnik's base with me! Don't worry; I'll take care of you! I like new friends!"

"Robotnik…?" The green one groaned, still in a tired, slow stupor.

"That's what I said! Now, tell me your names! I wanna know."

"Scr-Scraaatch…" Scratch said thoughtfully, glancing down at his brother, who, with a horrible crunch, stretched himself out.

"I'm Grounder…I think." Grounder muttered, beginning to snap out of it and check around himself. He rolled forward, causing Scratch to fall flat on his face.

The bird moaned, "Grounder, you sap! I was leaning on you…"

"Oops, sorry!" Both of their heads snapped down to the yellow robot who was now laughing uncontrollably.

"Hoo-hoo! Haha, you guys are great! I've never not regretted a decision like this before!" Cubot was startled when Scratch, who had been slowly getting up, suddenly crouched all the way down to look at him closely.

"And just WHO are you?" Scratch growled, "I don't remember you-you…" His eyes widened as memories started to re-flood his head like a painful river.

'_You and Grounder have served your purpose; I need new robots that can handle more.'_

He winced and slowly stood up again, baring his teeth only slightly. This little bot must be one of their replacements…he had to hand it to the boss, though. The designs of his mechanics had sure come a ways.

"Well, uh…how long's it been?"

Cubot, who had been admiring a fleck of sludgy dirt, jolted his head up, "Huh?"

Scratch cleared his throat; as if it would do his voice any good, "How long have we been, y'know…gone?"

"Not sure. My buddy said over a decade, though!"

An audible groan sounded from both of the poor bots, "We hafta get outta here…" Grounder whined, looking up at his brother, who nodded hesitantly.

"Yeah, we kinda do. Well, thanks, I guess."

Cubot seemed utterly distressed, "You're leaving?!"

Scratch nodded, "Well, yeah! Robotnik threw us out! What else are we 'suppost to do? We can't stay."

"B-but I need more friends! I gotta collection of friends, and you guys'd be the prize! Promise!"

Grounder smiled, "Gee, that sounds real nice, don't'chya think, Scratch?"

The tall robot moaned, "No. We have to go!" With a swipe one of his large feet, he kicked Cubot out of his way and hustled for the door, "C'mon, Grounder, let's go!"

Although thinking that that action had been 'really mean', the pudgy badnik followed his brother excitedly. They were both not only eager to get moving and use their rusted parts, but to leave before they were discovered.

True, there was nothing more either would like more than to grovel at their master's feet and on any other occasion of reactivation they would, but something pressed into Scratch's mind, and it wouldn't let up.

'_It's taken me years to realize that your uselessness outweighs your usefulness by far.'_

He had known that his master was evil. Heck, so was he! He had been naturally made that way…but the way that Robotnik had presented their fate with such cruelty disturbed Scratch a fair bit.

He briefly wondered if he had completely blown a piston. Why didn't he feel that urge to serve and protect the Doctor? Why was he so concerned with his own life? What had gone wrong?

"Hey!" He whipped around to glare at Grounder, whose tread had caught his heel, "Watch it; that hurts!"

"Well, sorry!" A shrug.

Scratch observed their surroundings, something very un-Scratch of him to do, "Well, if I remember right, the way out is this way!"

"But, why are we trying to leave?"

The rooster turned to stare incredulously at his brother, "I-I thought that that's what we were doing! Leaving the base. Don't you ever listen?"

"Yeah, but…" He twiddled his fingers together nervously before blurting out, "Oh, Scratch! I just can't do it! I wanna find Robotnik and see if he'll take us back."

"Ugh, you idiot, he doesn't want us anymore! That's why we were in that heap in the first place! You think if he wanted us, he's throw us in there?"

It occurred to Scratch how serious Grounder looked as he muttered, "I can't…"

"We-well fine, then! You go do what YOU want to, since you OBVIOUSLY know better than me! Go and get yourself deactivated again…see if I care!"

Before poor Grounder could put another say in, the stubborn chicken stomped away.

….

"Go fish…"

Dr. Eggman tilted his head over his shoulder slightly to glare at Orbot, who was playing a card game with his computer. He had to let out a frustrated sigh. What had become of his robots?

Why weren't his currents bootlickers or shoe-shiners? Why did they have so much free-will? He had to remind himself that he really did know the reason why, but just couldn't think too deeply into the subject. The further he let his private thoughts sink away, the harder they were to access or remember, right? Surely with this intellect and how many things he had on his mind every day.

'GO FISH.' The computer shot back, breaking the genius from his thoughts.

He yet again threw another dirty look at them, which they did not catch, "Hey, I thought you could only play solitaire!" He spat, pointing an accusing finger at the super-computer.

"Oh, we are!" Orbot assured quickly, "But with a twist!"

"I'll give you a twis-"He paused midway from getting up out of his chair when he heard a sound nearby that he wasn't familiar with. But, why did it sound familiar?

Listening for only a moment, he realized that the sound was coming from the doorway, behind him. He also saw the reaction of Orbot, who froze in place, looking just beside his boss' side at whatever it was with a truly terrified expression. He took a deep breath.

In one quick movement, he spun on his heel and yanked from his coat a small plasma pistol, which unfolded quickly to reveal a large barrel; heating up to fry the threat.

But there really was no need for it. In fact, the gun slipped out of its holder's hand a second later and clattered onto the floor, but Eggman didn't really notice. He was too busy staring at the figure before him with a mix of confusion and awe.

The man then reached up and adjusted his glasses, mouth slightly hanging open.

"…Grounder?"


End file.
